


you make the typical me break my typical rules

by finalfrontierpioneer



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Jeronica Week 2019, Spring Fling Jeronica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finalfrontierpioneer/pseuds/finalfrontierpioneer
Summary: Veronica Lodge represents everything Jughead hates about Slytherins. Until he realizes hate isn't quite the right word for how he feels about her.





	you make the typical me break my typical rules

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm a day late and this is really short, but i wanted to participate! All the prompts are included in this oneshot, but I fully admit some of them (May pole lmao) are basically just mentioned in passing. 
> 
> Please just imagine that gif of Daniel Radcliffe saying "i tried therefore no one should criticize me"
> 
> These are all the prompts!   
> Day One: new beginnings  
> Day Two: rain showers  
> Day Three: green  
> Day Four: cherry blossoms  
> Day Five: May pole  
> Day Six: Spring Fling  
> Day Seven: in bloom

The color green is a personal affront to Jughead.

It’s a legacy he can never inherit- one he doesn’t _want_ to inherit. His father and all the Jones patriarchs may be Slytherins, but Jughead’s never wanted that. The house pride his father embraces at every possible moment will never be transferred to him.

And that’s fine. His father’s an alcoholic, a deadbeat. Jughead doesn’t need to make him proud.

(His heart only pangs a little when the Sorting Hat places him in Ravenclaw, his mother’s house.)

Green is sickness, decay.

It’s jealousy.

The first time he sees Veronica Lodge, he thinks she’s the epitome of a Slytherin. Of pureblood privilege, of ambition and narcissism wrapped up in a beautiful package. Of effortless inheritance of something he will never- _can_ never- be. He thinks he’s jealous of her.

He’s half right.

The first time he actually meets her, Archie’s introducing her as his flavor of the week. Of course, he doesn’t phrase it like that, but Jughead’s only thinking what everyone else is thinking.

“Hey you guys, this is Veronica,” Archie presents her with a disarming smile.

The contrast of her dark hair against the green on her collar draws his eye as Archie introduces them to her, “And these are my best friends, Betty,” Veronica and a wilting Betty shake hands, “And Jughead.” She turns her gaze on him, hand still outstretched.

“Jughead?” she asks incredulously. Her eyes are so dark, they’re almost black, he can’t help but notice.

“Jones, the third,” he replies with a mocking nod of his chin. He gives her hand one firm pump. There’s no need for anymore contact than that.

Veronica smirks at him, plum lips curling up at one corner.

A shiver runs down his spine.

He ignores it and firmly refuses to let her get to him.

Veronica and Archie do make a striking couple, all Gryffindor daring and Slytherin cunning. Mostly he thinks that she’s striking- in an evil, seductive way. How could Archie not be seduced?

Even Betty, who’s been pining after Archie for years, laughs brightly at Veronica’s jokes at lunch in the Grand Hall.

Jughead’s determined not to be so easy.

For the most part, it’s easy. He just has to wait out Veronica and Archie’s relationship. And since Archie never dates a girl for longer than three weeks, he doesn’t expect it’ll be long.

They last two months.

Every second is pure torture for Jughead. He has to endure her presence every day at lunch, always curled under Archie’s arm. She joins them on trips to Hogsmeade, she even sits with Jughead and Betty during Archie’s Quidditch games.

It’s stupid, but the Quidditch games are the worst. She transfigures her green and silver scarf to red and gold and it just...does not suit her.

Jughead prefers her in green, so he can constantly remind himself what she is and why he doesn’t like her. (He pointedly doesn’t think about what she’d look like in a blue and bronze scarf.)

He can’t escape her.

And then Archie and Veronica break up. Jughead doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t pry. He stays far away from the topic of Veronica when he and Archie talk.

Jughead thinks he’s finally free.

He waltzes into the Grand Hall, fully prepared for it to go back to being just the three of them, and Veronica’s sitting there, just like usual. Well, not exactly like usual. She and Betty have switched seats now, so Jughead’s usual seat is now next to Veronica.

She gives him a tentative smile as he sits down and he feels his own lips twist up against his will. It doesn’t mean he likes her, it just means he’s resigned to her presence. He’s a Ravenclaw, he can rationalize anything.

Life goes on; Veronica becomes a fixed member of their friend group.

They don’t interact much outside of that, until they’re paired together in Herbology.

He curses Betty and Archie for being in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. How come the Ravenclaws and Slytherins have to have this class together?

But, and he’s shocked he’s thinking this, it’s not actually all that bad. Sure, he would’ve preferred Toni or Sweetpea (he doesn’t hate _all_ Slytherins), but Veronica’s an infinitely better partner than say, Cheryl Blossom (he definitely hates _her_ ).

For one, she’s brilliant. Jughead’s got no shortage of brainiac housemates, and he’s still impressed by Veronica. He’d expected to be forced to shoulder most of the work. That is most definitely not the case.

It’s infuriating at first. She doubts him, corrects him, constantly bothers him. He’s not used to it; he hits back, annoying her as much as she annoys him.

But their joint papers easily earn the highest grades in the class.

His essays have always been blunt and straightforward. He’s less persuasive than straight up argumentative. With her touch, the unwieldy instrument that is his intellect becomes a sharp knife. Jughead would never tell her, but he attributes their good grades entirely to her.

But still he resists her charm.

They’re working one Saturday afternoon in the greenhouse when it comes to a head. It’s not _entirely_ his fault; he can tell something’s bothering her even before he points out that she misspelled ‘rhododendron’.

Veronica explodes.

She throws her quill at him, splattering ink all over the shrub in between them. “Well, so- _rry_ my work isn’t up to your ridiculously high standards!”

Jughead blinks. “I didn’t mean it like-”

“Or is it that _I'm_ not up to your high standards?” she asks in an alarmingly wobbly voice.

“No-”

“You know what? You can finish up by yourself,” Veronica reaches over to yank her quill out of his loose grasp and shoves it in her bag, along with all her loose papers and her Herbology textbook.

“Wait, Veronica-”

She storms out the door.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to follow her, but he springs up and runs out after her.

Straight into the pouring rain.

Great. He’d cast a water repelling charm, but his wand’s back on the workbench, and with the way Veronica’s practically sprinting away from him, there’s no time to go back for it.

His longer strides quickly catch up with her, and he grabs her elbow.

She whirls back around and shoves him away.

He nearly slips in the mud. “What is your _damage_ , Lodge?”

“Don’t _call_ me that!”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Is that all I am to you?”

Jughead’s confused. “What do you mean?”

“Is that why you hate me?” she asks in a very small voice that he can barely hear over the rain.

Jughead sucks in a quick breath. Veronica won’t meet his eyes.

“Veronica, I don’t- I don’t hate you,” he nearly breathes out.

Her eyes flick up to his. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head.

“Then why can’t you even look at me sometimes? I’m trying so hard to be your friend!”

Jughead rolls his eyes skyward, and confesses. “It’s not really about you.”

Veronica’s silent but watching closely.

“Do you know anything about my dad?”

“Not much. I’ve seen him in Quidditch team pictures in the common room,” she admits.

“Well, dear old dad’s a much better Quidditch player than he is a father,” he says frankly.

He glances at her, and sees burgeoning understanding in her eyes.

“My dad was just...really disappointed in me for not being sorted into Slytherin. And you...you just make it look so easy.”

“Being a Slytherin?” her forehead wrinkles in confusion.

“Well, yeah. That and pleasing your parents? Making friends? Being perfect?”

She doesn’t say anything for a second. Jughead shivers; they’re both completely soaked through and only getting wetter.

Veronica shakes her head and laughs bitterly, “Jughead, I’m not perfect, and I’m certainly not pleasing my parents.”

He tilts his head at her, not understanding.

“My dad’s not so great either,” is all she says. But she meets his gaze head on, and he can see the pain behind even that simple statement.

He can’t think of a single thing to say to that, so he acts on instinct. He opens his arms.

Veronica stares at him in surprise. The rain trickles down her face like tears, her makeup is running, and her raven hair is plastered to her skull. She’s so fucking beautiful.

He begins to feel awkward; maybe he should just close his arms. Jughead can’t blame her; he’s not exactly cuddly or huggable.

And then she flings herself into his arms. He rocks backward with the force of it.

Veronica wraps her arms around his neck, stretching up on her toes to press her face into the crook of his neck. Jughead’s arms fall naturally to her waist; he folds her into his arms and presses his cheek to her hair.

It hits him like a lightning bolt as she clings to him.

He’s not jealous of Veronica. He _wasn't_ jealous of Veronica- he _wanted_ Veronica.

They call a truce after that.

That’s not to say they’re suddenly best friends. She still makes disgusted faces over the lunch table while he stuffs his face; he still rolls his eyes when she does something ridiculous like deciding to call the Vernal Ball the Spring Fling.

But there’s no bite to it. There’s still tension, but it’s more thrilling than rage-inducing.

They start studying for their other classes together. Their different approaches are actually pretty complimentary. It would be stupid _not_ to study together. (At least, that’s how Jughead rationalizes it.)

Sometimes Betty and Archie join, but most of the time they don’t. It’s probably because Jughead and Veronica bicker the whole time. Objectively, he knows it’s probably headache inducing, even if it’s whispered barbs in the library, but he just can’t stop.

It’s one of those rare times that all four are studying together that Reggie approaches their table purposefully. For a second, Jughead’s the only one who sees him. He knows exactly what Reggie’s coming over here for, but it’s like watching a trainwreck in slow motion.

Reggie can't do this. He can’t ask Veronica to the dance.

Jughead holds his breath and hopes to Merlin he’s hallucinating.

He isn’t.

Reggie comes to a halt at the head of the table and clears his throat.

Jughead shoots a panicked glance at Veronica, but she’s looking up at Reggie in bemusement.

He stares down at the grain of the table as if it can save him.

“I know this is a long shot, but is there any chance you’ll go to the dance with me?” Reggie finally asks.

Jughead looks up at Veronica’s face to see what she’ll say.

But she’s not even looking at Reggie. She’s watching Betty, eyes bright with excitement, hand over her mouth to hold in a squeal.

“Betty?” Reggie prompts after there’s been silence for too long.

 _Oh_.

It’s hard to pull his eyes away from the magnet that is Veronica, but he manages to flick his eyes toward Betty.

She’s grinning so widely it looks painful, “Yes, yes, of course!”

Madam Pince shushes her from the front desk.

Betty blushes and jumps up to hug Reggie.

Jughead almost wants to jump up and hug him too.

Nobody else tries to ask Veronica out in front of him, thank Merlin.

In fact, nobody else asks her period as far as he knows. He overhears her bemoaning her lack of a date to Kevin, and an idea starts to take root.

He doesn’t want to go to this dance. Well, _didn't_. He’s not a good dancer, and the spectacle of watching the first years wind the ribbons around the giant enchanted May pole has grown stale after seeing it every year for the past four years.

But this time, he could ask her. At this point, he’s got nothing to lose. Betty’s going with Reggie, Archie just asked Josie a few days ago, and he knows Joaquin is going to ask Kevin any day now.

Logically, it makes sense for them to go together.

He brings it up during Herbology that week. Well, he tries. (Okay, he doesn’t try that hard.)

When they sit down for class, there’s a new plant on their table. Plant is a generous description, it’s really just a bare brown bulb. No roots, no green, no nothing.

“Alright class,” Professor Sprout begins, “You may notice that I have already distributed your project for the next week- can anyone tell me what it is?”

Cheryl Blossom of all people raises her hand. “It’s a  _Prunus Serrulata_. No one knows exactly what makes them bloom, although it’s rumored they can sense the emotions of the witches and wizards around them.”

“Very good, Ms. Blossom- 5 points to Slytherin,” Professor Sprout smiles benevolently, “Your assignment is simple- make them bloom. First ones to figure it out get 10 extra points on your final exam.”

It turns out to be the opposite of simple, which Jughead suspects Professor Sprout already knew.

Veronica pulls out her thick herbology textbook and summarizes the section on the  _Prunus Serrulata_ for him: “When persuaded to bloom, this plant produces fragrant flowers of varying colors...blah blah blah,” she flips a page, “Okay, it says something about needing to be surrounded by positive energy.”

“That’s it? Positive energy?” Jughead asks dubiously.

Veronica frowns down at the textbook, “That’s all it says.”

They try planting it in fertile soil, watering it. Obviously, that would be too easy: it doesn’t work. The bulb remains as bare as ever.

Jughead glances around at their classmates. At least no one else has figured it out. Sweetpea and Fangs are trying to glare their plant into submission, and Toni’s batting her eyes at Cheryl, completely ignoring the bulb.

Wait. Jughead takes a closer look. The tiniest green stalk is peeking out of Toni and Cheryl’s bulb.

A light bulb goes off. He nudges Veronica with a sharp elbow. “I think I figured it out.”

She raises a skeptical eyebrow, “Really?”

He gestures to Toni and Cheryl discreetly.

“Oh!” Veronica blinks. Then smirks. “You know, there are easier ways to get me to flirt with you.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “As if you’d ever flirt with  _me_ willingly.”

Veronica tilts her head, “What? Of course I would. You’re tall, dark, and mysterious.” She flicks a glance up and down his body. “What’s not to like?”

His frown splits into a reluctant smile, “Tall, dark, and mysterious?”

She blushes, but holds her head high. “Now say something nice about me. Do you not know how flirting works?”

Jughead deliberates. He could mention her beauty, and he will, eventually. But Veronica is not just beautiful. “You’re brilliant.”

“What?” She’s taken aback.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure my Herbology grade went up a whole letter solely because of you,” he admits.

“That’s...insanely high praise from a Ravenclaw,” Veronica smiles warmly at him.

He glances at their bulb. Success! He sees green stalks. But that’s not a bloom yet.

“And you’re beautiful,” he blurts out.

“You think I’m beautiful?” she asks, taken aback.

He scoffs. “C’mon, you know how beautiful you are. Anyone with eyes could tell you that.”

“Oh, I’m not denying it,” she flips her hair over her shoulder, “I just didn’t expect to hear it come out of  _your_ mouth.”

“Well, believe it,” he mutters, fiddling with his quill.

Veronica reaches out and touches his shoulder, “Hey, I think you’re brilliant, too. You’re not the only one who’s improved grade-wise, you know.”

Jughead casts an appraising glance at her, “You think I’m beautiful, too?”

Veronica laughs, bright and sudden.

“Yeah,” she says confidently, looking up at him through her lashes, “What are you gonna do about it?” She bites her lip. Jughead’s eyes are drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

“I’m…” he gathers his confidence. “I’m gonna kiss you.” He leans in boldly. Then hesitates. He meets her eyes, “Can I kiss you?”

Veronica rolls her eyes at him fondly, and reaches out to pull him in herself. She brazenly plants her lips on his in the middle of class. Her lips are soft, but the kiss is hard and unyielding in the best way. She tastes of plums- exactly like the shade of lipstick she’s wearing. It’s  _so_ Veronica, he can’t help but smirk into the kiss.

Someone clears their throat from right behind them.

They spring apart.

Professor Sprout has one eyebrow cocked at them. “5 points to Ravenclaw and Slytherin,” she says, nodding toward their table, “and those 10 extra points on your final exams.”

Jughead and Veronica blink at each other, dazed. And then, as one, turn to their _Prunus Serrulata_.

The bare bulb is no more. The plant has burst into bloom. Green stems hold delicate shimmering pink flowers aloft, and they cascade down the sides of the pot, completely engulfing any hint of the bulb or the dirt underneath.

Jughead doesn’t know much about flowers, and doesn’t care to, but they’re beautiful.

They did that.

He glances toward Veronica, aware that he’s blushing but unable to stop. Her cheeks are pink, too.

Jughead smiles, open and honest in a way he’s never been around her before, “Is there any chance you’d wanna go to the Spring Fling with me?”

She beams, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He nearly jumps when she reaches for his hand under the table and intertwines their fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the  _Prunus Serrulata_ waving happily in the air.

Jughead knows the feeling. He squeezes Veronica’s palm. Her blush matches the blossoms exactly.

(She wears a green dress to the dance, and he even lets her buy him a green tie to match.

She doesn’t have to work hard to persuade him- a few heated kisses and exhilarating fumblings when they should be studying and he’s a goner.

Green can mean new beginnings, too.)

**Author's Note:**

> (prunus serrulata is just the genus/species for cherry trees- specifically Japanese cherry trees. i know nothing about them, i just got that info from wikipedia!)
> 
> Feel free to tell me your own headcanons for the characters' houses, if you have them! Or your own house! (According to buzzfeed i'm a ravenclaw)


End file.
